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It’s not too late.
If he’d only just see reason…
The Ellis household is steeped in tradition. But with the weather, the standard line up of staff and family out front to greet me has been moved indoors I assume. Noticing the empty steps out front. The family crest on the huge double front doors hidden under the thatch of Christmas wreath. Nobody outside gives me a second to steel myself for what should be a few awkward minutes at most before I leave again.
I feel the sting of icy sleet as I signal my driver not to bother with the umbrella he’s trying to keep from imploding.
Peppered with what feels like tiny razors before I reach the huge oak doors in three long steps.
Not even bothering to unbutton my coat once I step inside.
Catching the ancient butler, Grosvenor unawares, I’m instantly aware how things have changed.
No line up. No red carpet.
No special welcome home for Ike Eilis’s only son and heir.
And that is not a good sign.
“Mr. Ellis!” Grosvenor exclaims, open mouthed and embarrassed once it’s clear I’m not even expected.
I only give a stern look, feeling my mouth creasing into a frown to match my brow. The house looks the same, lifted straight out of another time.
But it feels different somehow.
Almost…happy.
The sound of my father’s laugh echoing from upstairs makes me look up. Drawing a low growl from me as I feel like we might skip the introductions and move straight to the legal conversation I need to have with him.
Like right fucking now.
“Let me take your coat- I’ll tell your father you’re here-,” Grosvenor tries to tell me, scrambling to find a spot to set a silver tray with two filled champagne flutes on it. But I’ve already waved him away with my hand.
Everything shifting in a split second once I spot an unfamiliar face descending the huge wooden staircase. A face attached to a body that instantly shifts something in my pants.
My heart grabs in my chest and for probably the first time in my life, I’m speechless.
The old butler’s flustered but not surprised by my attitude. And once his eyes follow mine, to the girl coming down the stairs he does what he’s paid for.
“Mr. Ellis. This is… Ms. Eve Baxter… Who’s turned eighteen today.” He says somberly, dying a little inside himself I imagine. Looking back over the life he’s devoted to serving our family while someone fifty years his junior just walks on in and starts living the dream.
But it’s me who feels like I’m dreaming.
At no point did my father’s memo include the crucial facts. Something like: ‘By the way, your new stepsister’s smoking hot and needs more stuffing than a Christmas goose, so drain your balls before coming down…’
That would’ve been useful info.
She’s like some kind of Christmas angel, stepped right off the damned tree. And hearing the front door open and close behind me, I feel something like melting ice in my chest slipping away.
“Mr. Ellis-? There’s a weather event moving in. We need to go. Now.” My driver says with restraint in his voice.
But my hand’s already up.
“I’m staying.” I reply dryly, my eyes locking on hers as she walks without any certainty down the stairs, pulled towards me like iron filings to a magnet.
“Have my things brought in.” I add absently. Moving over to meet her before the bottom of the stairs. Making it look and feel as if she's the only reason I’ve come home.
My only reason for existing right now.
